Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: Michigan


by 26 Comments

Spring is bustin’ out all over

Motivated by the fact I promised a running buddy that I’d walk a virtual 5K while she ran a half marathon this coming weekend, I went out to a local park on Monday to see how walking further than from the couch to the fridge would feel.

Before my walk Tuesday I stopped by the pond to see how my favorite line of trees looked in the morning light.

I haven’t been out there to walk on the bike path since I did the CRIM race back in August. The race where I fell at the end and broke my finger. A finger injury seemed a good excuse not to exercise for, well, eight months. Or so.

I won’t lie and say it was easy, but it wasn’t really hard either. Monday I only walked 3.1 miles, the length of a 5K, just to see what my time was. Yep…moseying along at my comfortable pace it took me an hour. I’m not really in race condition, but at least I was out there. Right?

I don’t know why I took this picture other than the lights for the parking lot which is over the hill looked cool coming out of the grasses. And the sky was neat too.

And while I was out there trying hard not to take pictures with my phone, which slows me down but also makes me happy, I noticed that spring was just about to pop and I wished I had my regular camera. So right then and there, before I turned around at the 1.5 mile marker I decided I’d go back the next day, Tuesday, with my camera and go just a little bit further.

I enjoy the sky bouncing off the top of this hill almost every time I walk at this park.

Because, you see, I saw cowslips in bloom along a stream at the 1.25 mile marker, but they weren’t in a spot that was easy to reach. And I knew, at mile 2.1 there was a marsh that would be full of them. And a photo of those cowslips (also known as marsh marigolds) was my goal.

Other stuff also caught my eye.

Of course I saw plenty of other pretty things on my way back into the woods. Plenty of things that were (almost) as good as marsh marigolds in bloom in the morning sun.

Lots of these little guys along the edge of the woods.

In fact, I’m sharing a few of them here. Surprise!

Tuesday I went early in the morning, around 8, and it was a bit nippy, but I warmed right up as I walked. There’s a 1 mile walk down a big hill, out in the open that’s always colder than it is once you get back into the woods. I just pulled my hands into my sleeves when I wasn’t shooting an image. Which turned out to be rare moments.

The light was really nice, making the skunk cabbage glow.

I like the open part of the path, even though it runs next to a road, because you get to see hills with golden grass and a view of the sky.

Once you’re in the woods there’s not a lot of sky to see, but there are oh so many other things to notice if you take the time. I’m always reminding myself how lucky I am to have several parks like this near.

Lots of these guys too, just beginning to open up their umbrellas. Which is good, because it’s going to rain tonight.

There were a few people out, mainly on bikes, or jogging. A few other walkers, but everyone was very careful to keep their social distance. We just smiled and nodded at each other as we went by.

These two guys were the nosiest people! I heard them coming from miles away. Talking loudly while riding fast, they were soon out of earshot again.

I didn’t see anyone else out there with a camera. They all seemed to be out there for exercise. Hmmmm….I thought maybe I’d get exercise credit…but my phone, which was tracking my walk, sounded more and more condescending as the walk went on.

These two women had five dogs between them. I’ve seen them out there before, all the dogs did great, only one growled at me. 🙂

“Total distance is 1 mile, total time is 21 minutes, 9 seconds.” Well that’s a little slow even for me. But my excuse was that I took a couple pictures of the hills, and the sky, and well, you know.

I LOVED this view across the wetlands, the red twigged dogwood and the birch and the clouds. I had to crawl through bushes to get it. Worth it though.

“Total distance is 2 miles, split pace is 25 minutes 49 seconds.” Maybe I should pick up the pace, but that mile is my favorite mile back in the woods and the sun was shining off the old beach leaves.

Now SHE gets points for exercising.

“Total distance is 3 miles, split pace is 35 minutes 58 seconds.” Well, there were the cowslips in the third mile. I spent a lot of time there. So really, I wasn’t walking that slow. Really.

Bet you never knew a swamp could look so pretty!

Total distance is 4 miles, split pace is….not worth telling you about.” 🙂

Anyway, maybe I can’t claim this walk was exercise, but I can claim that it was a lot of fun and I got some beautiful images. Including the one that posted yesterday for Wordless Wednesday. I’ll wait while you pop over there to check it out if you haven’t seen it yet.

I got serenaded (or warned off) by a lot of these guys.

I was almost back at the car when I heard the crane. They make a very distinctive sound. I couldn’t see him, but I got my camera ready, and darn if he didn’t come my way. He went to the east of me, quite a ways away and I got some shots, but nothing spectacular. Still he made me smile.

Then he did a big u-turn and flew back toward me, right over my head! It was really, really cool.

What? You thought I’d put a picture of the crane here?

So that was the end to my 4 point something mile walk. I felt like the whole thing was a huge success, regardless of my turtle speed. Oh…and the cowslips, the marsh marigolds? Did I get a shot of them?

Sun shines on forest gold.

Well of course I did. And I hope they make you smile as much as they did me.

Almost guaranteed that they will.

Last year’s beech tree, this year’s moss both glow.


by 24 Comments

Games

Listen to me, mama!

I’m working on a little watercolor cat postcard for someone and doing delicate work around the eyes when Katie barks. At me. She’s lucky my hand didn’t slip, but I knew enough to put the art away for awhile.

She’s feeling ignored.

She doesn’t want to go out back to her pen, a place she enjoys these days before things get to hot out there in the coming weeks. She wants to go out, but not to go out, if you know what I mean. I attempt, a second time, to take her out to her pen and she detours to the folding chairs on the other end of the deck.

There she settles in her favorite location to watch the road. She looks over her shoulder at me, still attached to her leash, and says I can either stand there like a dummy, or sit in the chair and enjoy the evening. With her.

So I sit.

She watches the road. I watch the birds in the trees above as they make their decisions about dinner. They are coming in for their evening meal and Katie and I, though we are sitting very still, are objects to consider.

A single gold finch begins to sing…three notes, the last on an upward question; “You still here? You still here? He’s not sure what to do about us, so he keeps asking.

The group of three chickadees aren’t worried about us at all. They work themselves down to the lowest hanging branches, just above us, cock their heads, consider us unimportant, and shoot off to the feeder, each grabbing one choice seed and skidding back up into the branches where they tap open their seeds, the sound multiplied by three.

I think I hear a nuthatch, they sort of whine when they want something, but I can’t see it. Then a downy woodpecker swoops down to the feeder, and I realize I might have mistaken it for the nuthatch.

A titmouse flutters above my head, not sure if it should go get something to eat, or pull some hair for a nest. I must have moved; suddenly it flies straight up and over to the feeder.

More goldfinches join the lonely one, each singing, none brave enough to eat with us sitting there. Soon there is an entire choir, but apparently they find no strength in numbers.

I nod off a little, no worries, Katie is keeping watch while simultaneously breaking twigs into smaller twigs. She’s a multi-talented little girl.

Suddenly there is scrambling and chirping and two chipmunks race up the railing and across the deck and down the other side. Since she is so focused on her twigs Katie misses all the action. I nod off again.

Hearing something scrambling in the leaves below I glance down, expecting to see Chip or Dale. But no. It a towhee! I’ve lived here more than twenty-five years and I’ve only seen this bird twice before! It scratches around in the the dry leaves for a moment or two, and then flies away.

Katie doesn’t understand why I am so excited, or why she gets a treat when we go inside. I owe her that towhee sighting, and all the other bird (and chipmunk) games we got to watch. Because if she hadn’t said “enough mama,” I’d have missed it all.

Katie is full of good ideas, if only I’d stop and listen. She’s napping now, probably dreaming up something else fun for us to do.

As I’m sure she’s told you, she has to do everything around here.

zzzzzzzz…


by 21 Comments

What season is it anyhow?

Mostly content to stay at home these past few weeks, I started to feel camera withdrawal yesterday. It was warmish out, bright blue sky, big puffy white clouds, the kind that would look lovely hanging above a red barn or two.

Ah, that’s the ticket. Puffy clouds in a pretty blue sky.

But, here in Michigan, we’re still under a stay-at-home order. We’re supposed to stay put unless we’re going to the grocery or the pharmacy. Darn. I don’t have any drugstore needs that are close to barns.

I think it’s still legal to go to a park and walk. But somehow that seemed like too much work and I stayed inside and painted little postcards instead. As I sat at home watching the sun set amid big puffy clouds, listening to the weather report I began to regret my decision.

Not much snow over winter, but plenty of rain this spring.

This morning, still in bed, but staring at the dark ceiling and listening to the wind tear by the house and the rain pound on the roof I figured I had lost my opportunity for a park walk. Just because the park didn’t have barns, I told myself, was no reason not to get off my behind and go see what there was to see.

I figured today wouldn’t be the day.

But by early afternoon I noticed blue sky and big white puffy clouds. Huh. So it was only 28 degrees (-2.22 C) and there was a stiff wind, so what, right? Blue skies and puffy white clouds called for a camera adventure.

So I bundled up and headed to a park only 6 miles from me that isn’t usually busy. Plus it has my favorite line of photogenic trees.

But 2 miles from the park I noticed ahead of me what looked like a dust storm. Maybe a farmer was plowing a field? No, of course not. This was not dust. It was snow!

Things did not look promising heading into the park.

The park I was going to visit, the one where I was going to walk nature trails to the top of a hill and photograph blue sky and puffy clouds, was in the middle of a snow squall!

I almost kept on driving, right past the entrance. But I figured I was out there, I could see what might be worth photographing, preferably from the car. And then I’d just go home where obviously I should have stayed in the first place.

I sprinted from the car to the shelter of the nature center to get my obligatory image of the line of trees I so enjoy.

I didn’t even realize the heron was flying and in the image until I looked at it later.

It was still snowing. A heron flew over my shoulder and landed on the opposite side of the pond. He kept moving away as I approached and of course I didn’t have my long lens on the camera.

Can you see him standing over there? Wrong lens on the camera, this is a cropped version, and he’s blending into the rushes at the edge of the water.

So I gave up on him and headed up the hill.

Why look! Is that blue sky I see?

And as I did the sky brightened and the blue sky returned along with beautiful clouds. Behind me the snow clouds were still producing, but on the nature trails the sun was shining.

Snow clouds are just over the ridge.

You never know what will happen if you just show up. Sometimes you have to make a decision which way you’ll go. But as long as you make the best decision you can, with the information you have, well, you’ll be just fine.

Either way will work out.

As soon as I was safe and warm back in the car it began to sleet.

The wind picked up and sleet pounded the windshield.

And on the drive home I saw more snow clouds coming from the west.

Spring in Michigan is a mixed bag. Every year.

Yep, I had a sliver of an opportunity to get out there and enjoy the sun. I’m sure glad I took it, even if it’s obviously not really spring around here yet.

Just that one fleeting moment of sunshine.

On the other hand, maybe it is.

Greening proof.


by 28 Comments

Maybe it’s the sun

Yesterday I was dejected as I watched the snow fall. Everything seemed overwhelming and sad and hopeless. I didn’t brush the dog. I didn’t work on a painting. I didn’t cook much of anything.

The pictures I took of snow falling only made me feel worse.

But this early morning, sitting on the sofa in the dark (because Katie wanted me up and I always do what Katie wants) I watched a couple of videos of a water color artist doing loose, flowing flowers and whimsical birds. She was already making me feel better when I noticed it was growing light outside.

And the light was golden.

And there was light.

And the sky was blue and filled with puffy navy and white clouds and the birch trees glowed. And Katie and I went out to take a picture and revel in the fresh air.

I need a grooming appointment, mother! But I’m still happy to be home with you!

And we didn’t mind that there was ice on the deck and tiny bits of snow in the grass. We were happy to be out there, content to be safe at home, and oh so grateful for the sun.

Content to sit in a patch of sunshine.

We hope you have a contented day too.

Happy smells blowing in the wind.


by 27 Comments

Be careful what you wish for

Many mornings, during the 30+ years that I worked, I used to wish as I pulled out of the driveway that I could stay home. The few precious days when I was home on a weekday I’d watch the treetops become lit with rosy morning light, watch rectangles of sun slide across my living room floor, and think, “this is what happens every day while I’m at work.”

And I’d feel melancholy.

I’ve been retired for 5 years next month. The time has flown by and I haven’t always noticed when the light touches a branch or the tip of Katie’s nose as she sleeps. I’ve traveled a lot and missed plenty of light movement here at home.

And now we’re under the stay at home order, and suddenly staying at home has lost it’s luster. Maybe it’s because we’ve had mostly grey sky and rainy days here in Michigan. Maybe there hasn’t been that much light to admire.

When it’s not raining it’s snowing.

But I think it’s more than that, this sad feeling I feel deep inside. Yes, I enjoy being home, and feel guilty that I do, but there’s an underlying anxiety that picks away at me.

I haven’t been able to read a book since this started, I don’t have enough focus. I have started my current book five times because I can’t remember what I read the day before. I don’t know that I’ll try again.

Music helps, but I can only listen to short pieces all the way through. I am grateful for all the inspirational and fun pieces of music wandering the internet these days, and I’ve passed several on, but still the anxiety persists.

I thought maybe I was alone in the struggle between sad and happy, but I’ve been reading more and more blogs and articles from people that have similar feelings. Happy one day, anxious the next, lack of focus or direction. No motivation.

Just knowing I’m not alone is helpful as I watch today’s snow fall. I know things will get better. And Katie says that I shouldn’t forget I’ve still got her.

Yea, you’ve got me, mama. But could you wait till I’m done with my nap? Maybe more toward supper time.

That, and the sun shining after the snowfall, should make me feel better.

How about you? Are you happy to be home, or struggling that you’re there?


by 32 Comments

What was there to smile about this week?

It’s understandable if you felt like there wasn’t much to smile about this past week. Off and on these past few days I’ve been feeling pretty down too. After all, thousands of people are dying, and the rest of us, the lucky ones, are confined to our homes. Those less lucky still have to go out to work, risking their own lives and the lives of their families to do so.

No, there’s not a lot to smile about right now.

Still…I made it out to my favorite park before I realized it was too crowded to visit. And Katie-girl and I have explored our backyard and have come to a realization.

Spring waits for no virus.

So here’s a compilation of things that made me smile this week, both at the park and here in my very own yard.

I hope you were able to smile too. Stay safe everyone, and stay home.


by 37 Comments

Feeling guilty

I went out to my favorite park today. It was the first sunny day we’ve had in a long time, and the blue skies drew we outside. I felt like I’d be safe at the park, especially on the nature trails where I don’t usually see a lot of people during the week.

I miscalculated.

But before I get into that let me tell you about the most extraordinary thing that happened while I was in the woods. I had followed a popular trail half way around a lake. Every corner seemed to have more people and I wanted to find a quieter place in the trees, so I veered off onto an old, unmarked cross-country ski trail. I figured wherever it ended I’d recognize where I was and find my way back to the car. And no one else was walking that trail.

When I was quite far back into the woods, I noticed three red bellied woodpeckers screeching and chasing each other among the top of very tall trees. I stopped to watch. They stopped and watched me. In all my years visiting this park I’ve never had a red bellied come to my hand. Sometimes they’re interested, and they always take advantage of any seed I drop, but they’ve never landed on my hand.

Bet you can guess what happened today!

Yes, I was looking the other way, watching a chickadee decide whether to come in for a treat when I felt something with considerable weight land on my hand. I looked out of the corner of my eye and couldn’t believe what I saw. I had to really look, and I had plenty of time because he was sitting there eying me and considering which seed he wanted. He sat there and ate every single peanut out of my palm, leaving all the oilers, before he flew off.

I have no pictures because I had my long lens on the camera, too long to catch a shot of him sitting on my hand.

I refilled my hand and waited. I saw him, or one of his friends, come in for more treats from a long and high way off. He swooped down at what seemed to be breakneck speed, aiming directly for my hand, and landed with quite a bit of force. And once again we watched each other, eye to eye, as he swallowed down every peanut there.

He flew up on this tree after his snack.

Well! I decided if they were going to be this assertive I was changing my camera lens and grabbing a shot. But of course by the time I got the short lens on the camera they were long gone.

Still. It’s something I’ll never forget and I hope you can imagine.

Back to my miscalculation.

I figured the number of people at the park would be similar to most other weekdays that I’ve been there. But the parking lots were full. There were families with kids screaming and running everywhere. There were lots of individuals quietly walking too, but overwhelmingly there were groups of people tromping around the trails. It was noisy. It was crowded.

It felt like a Saturday, and then I realized that it might as well be a weekend day. Kids were no longer in school. People were off work. There will no longer be a difference between weekdays and weekends. I felt a small pang at the loss of my quiet weekday mornings at my favorite park.

And then I realized that none of us should have been there. That maybe we do need to close the parks. I know that people have been cooped up for a couple weeks, that kids are going crazy and need to expend some energy. But maybe that should be done in their own back yard.

And that’s where I’ll be staying into the foreseeable future.

Yesterday in the United States almost 1000 people died of the virus. The day before it was just over 900. When these kinds of numbers were being reported in Italy I couldn’t fathom the enormity. Now that enormity is here. Here in the states 5,713 people are dead, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

So I realized, as I left my favorite park, that maybe I won’t be back any time soon. I will miss it. But it’s important that we all stay home. All of us. Stay home. That’s the only way we will get through this.

And on a lighter note, I had a successful grocery store venture this morning, though I spent twice what I would usually spend because I’m hoping not to go back for at least two weeks.

And look what I found!

Mama! I don’t know why you’re so excited about that…it’s not edible or anything.

But today’s post is not about the toilet paper…it’s about the realization that a stay-at-home order means just that. Stay at home. Don’t go to the park to walk. Walk around your neighborhood or your yard if your neighborhood is too busy. If your yard is too small then walk around your house. But stay away from everyone else.

It’s going to be hard. But we’re strong. We can do this.

We have to.

Time to clean up our act.


by 35 Comments

Spring is out there just waiting for us

I’ve been feeling a little mind-numbing cabin feverish after staying inside for days on end. Grey skies, and yesterday’s almost two inches of rain haven’t help.

This morning started out shrouded in fog, but the sun burned it off and suddenly it was a glorious day. Fifty-nine degrees warm, blue skies and big puffy clouds.

On our search for a park to explore.


Katie insisted we go to a park. I thought that was a pretty good idea too. Some time outside would be just the ticket to clear our heads.

So we headed out to find a park without a lot of people. The first one we drove by had four cars in the lot so we kept on driving. We ended up at her regular small park, only one car there so we unloaded anticipating a lovely walk.

At Katie’s park.

Katie was wriggling with excitement.

As we began our exploration the wind began to whip, but we didn’t let that stop us. We were outside and it was wonderful! There was so much interesting stuff to see.

A huge fungus on the side of a tree.

Katie was more patient than usual with me taking pictures of things not her. I guess she knew it had been awhile since I’d been out too.

I’ll wait for you, mama, take your time.

As we turned the second corner I noticed to the west skies looked a little dicey. I left Katie out on the path and walked through some brush to get a clear shot of a pretty stunning sky.

Uh oh. Maybe we better get a move on.

She waited patiently. She’s such a good girl.

I’m keeping my eye on you mama!

I told her maybe we needed to pick up the pace. She told me not to worry and continued her slow nose work. I figured she was probably right.

Because we got so much rain yesterday a lot of the path was either covered in water or a muddy mess. Surprisingly my girl pranced right through both, never once asking to be carried.

Not to worry, mama, I can handle it!

Either she’s matured or she was so excited to be out there she didn’t care.

We saw all sorts of evidence of spring, but the wind was picking up and the dark clouds were overtaking us, so we decided to skedaddle to the car.

Trees are in bud now, just waiting for some warm weather to burst into leaf.

It’s a good thing we did, the wind is really whipping now, and Katie is asleep on the hearth here at home.

Clouds overtake us.

The rain should arrive any minute — I’m glad I followed her advice this morning or we’d have missed our opportunity to enjoy the brief minutes of sun.

You should follow my advice more often mama!

We hope you get out there too, we’re sure it will do you a world of good.

Just let me know when you want to explore, I’m ready to show you around!